Old Wounds
by lurkingwhump
Summary: "Kurt returns home after a long day at the NYO, but Jane is nowhere to be found. Could she have gone on the run again, or might the reason be something more sinister?" This story takes place in s3, sometimes between Jeller's reconciliation and the end of the season. Rated M due to violence.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: A new story which has taken me some time to write because life got in the way. But here you go. First of all, I want to thank my dear beta, take2intotheshower, and Indelible Evidence for helping me out with the plot points of this fic and generally putting up with me as I rambled about this :D. You guys are wonderful, thank you! Second, any similarities, that you might find odd if you've seen s4, are purely coincidental (they might be a blink and you'll miss it, but still). I wrote those parts well before 4X07 or 4x08 aired :D. Third, a **short trigger warning: this story contains description of torture.** So, if you are squeamish about that or find it triggering, please do not read. Finally, I don't own anything, just a fan. All rights belong to Martin Gero & co, as well as the great actors who bring these characters to life.

Old Wounds

* * *

Kurt glanced at his watch for the umpteenth time. He walked from the kitchen island to the balcony doors, staring outside for a long moment. It was dark, after midnight already, and the lights of the bridge glimmered like small candles. A frustrated sound escaped him as he walked back to the kitchen island, and grabbed his phone, staring it for a moment. " _Call her,"_ one side of his mind told him. _"No, it's late. Maybe you should wait a while longer,"_ countered the browsed his call list, debating. He glanced at the coat rack, at his own jacket hanging next to one of Jane's.

He made his way into the bedroom, letting his eyes travel around it. There was the thriller sitting on his bedside table, and a book about Etruscan pottery and art on Jane's. He walked over to the dresser, looking at Jane's jewelry box for a moment, gathering his courage before opening it. He could only see some of her earrings, no sign of her wedding ring. He felt a small flutter of relief in his chest at the realization, but it didn't help with the feeling of dread that engulfed him.

Kurt went back to the kitchen, and poured himself a Scotch before sitting on the couch in the living room. He fished his phone from his pocket and stared at it again, before dialing a number. He waited as it rang and rang, and ultimately disconnected. Taking a sip of the Scotch, he dialed another number.

"Hey, Weller." Patterson's smiling voice soon greeted him. "What's up? Everything okay?"

"I don't know." He sighed. "I came home half an hour ago, after interrogating the suspect in the Dreyer case. Jane's art class ended two hours ago, but she's not home."

"Okay…what if she went out for a drink with some of the people in her class?" Patterson asked gently.

"She would've texted me. I've tried calling her and she's not picking up."

* * *

Jane groaned quietly, her head felt fuzzy. The next moment she gasped, as she was drenched with ice cold water. That certainly woke her up. She opened her eyes, confused for a moment. A piece of cloth was stuck to her face.

" _A blindfold."_

She tried moving her arms, only to hear a metallic clang. _"I'm handcuffed to something."_ She noticed her jacket was gone, shivering slightly as the cold water made her t-shirt stick to her skin. Her boots and socks were gone, too, but she still had her jeans on. Her ankles had something around them, effectively shackling her to what she was lying on.

" _Okay, Jane. Focus. Try to figure out what is going on,"_ she told herself, as she calmed her breath.

What she heard next made any attempt to calm her breathing impossible.

"Welcome back, Jane Doe. Looks like the tranquilizer wore off. Remember me?"

She Southern twang was something that was forever imprinted in Jane's brain. One of the men who had worked with Keaton at the black site. " _Campbell. Please, not again."_ Jane was able to suppress a whimper, as memories of her time at the black site hit her full force. She had been able to handle them, to slowly process them over the years, but in the blink of an eye, all of that was gone. She _knew._

"You do remember me, don't ya?" His voice was almost glad, but held a menacing note. "And here we are again."

Jane heard Campbell step closer, practically standing next to her. He knelt down, so close that she was able to smell the cigarette smoke on his clothes. She closed her eyes behind the blindfold, trying to take deeper breaths to calm her racing heart. "You were surprisingly easy to get to. Just found out your and your husband's routines, and then all it took was a tranquilizer dart."

Gathering her resolve, Jane decided to speak, managing to sound defiant despite her current position. "What do you want, Campbell?"

He gave a small laugh. "What do I want? Same thing as last time, honey, information."

He got up and walked away. Jane could hear him fiddling with something. Someone else attached something to her ear.

"You caused me a lot of trouble when you broke out, you know that?" He continued, stepping closer again. "You dislocated my shoulder, _you fuckin bitch."_ At the last word, he punched her stomach, knocking the wind out of her and leaving her to gasp for breath.

"I lost a lucrative PMC gig in Afghanistan with the Agency 'cause of that! Keaton said I couldn't work with that injury and that I was a risk."

Jane gasped as he grabbed by the hair suddenly, and pulled her head back as he leaned in close. "But now, I don't work for the Agency anymore, not officially anyhow. So, I can hold you as long as I need to get the information."

She shivered again and he noticed. "Cold, are ya? Water is a good way of wakin' up someone."

He stepped back and soon started tracing something up and down her body.

"Turn it on," she heard Campbell say to someone, and next she screamed as her world exploded in pain, filling her head.

"It's also a mighty good electricity conductor," he continued after a few seconds as the shock stopped.

Jane gasped for breath, her muscles feeling like they were torn in three different directions.

"Ever heard of the parrilla, Jane?" Campbell asked, his tone close to that of a teacher.

"No..."

"It's a method used by the Chileans under Pinochet. Secure the interrogee to a metallic bedframe, just like the one you are on right now. And then you can attach electrodes to them and start usin' the electricity. This can go on for hours at a time."

He removed the alligator clip from her ear, attaching it to her finger, ignoring her struggle.

"All I want is information. Some of it for my own purposes, and hopefully somethin' to give to the CIA."

"You really think I haven't told what I know to the task force already?" Jane asked, thinking she might have laughed at the absurdity of the situation if it didn't seem so troubling.

Campbell paced back and forth the length of the bed, sounding contemplative. "Maybe you did, maybe you didn't. Keaton always did have trouble believin' you."

Jane suddenly felt very uneasy. " _Keaton. Is he still in contact with Campbell? How else would he have found me?"_

"So, tell me what ya know of the remainin' cells of the Regiment?"

"About what?" she asked, not understanding the question. A moment later, she realized talking had been the wrong thing as she screamed again as the electricity hit.

"Don't be stupid. You know exactly what the Regiment is! You and your FBI friends took down their leadership."

Jane groaned and let her head fall back onto the metal springs of the bedframe as she fought to speak again." I don't…understand… why…you're asking. It's a closed case."

"As you wish, darlin'," he replied and removed the clip again, only to reattach it elsewhere on her body.

Jane drew in a breath, trying to steel herself against the agony she knew would soon follow.

The interrogation continued for what was probably hours, at least that's how it felt to Jane. Now and then she was able to distance herself from the pain, the same questions asked of her again and again. Sometimes she stayed silent, sometimes she tried to tell him she didn't know what he was talking about.

"Release her from there and cuff her hands behind her back. I don't want to take any chances," she heard Campbell say to someone and soon she felt two pairs of hands manhandle her onto the floor and handcuff her again. Unable to see, and her nerve endings on fire, she didn't resist. She leaned her head against the cool floor, groaning quietly as her muscles felt like they were being torn from the bone.

"Come on, y'all, let's get outta here," Campbell told his men. "You, go turn on our fancy new surround sound system. We need our guest to be entertained."

A minute later Jane flinched as the piercing sound of discordant metal guitars filled the room.

* * *

Reade, Patterson and Kurt were gathered in the lab, Patterson was typing away at her tablet, having dots appear on the map projected on the table.

"Okay, so…Weller, you said that Jane's art class teacher told you she left the class at the normal time yesterday when the class ended. That was here." Patterson pointed to one of the dots on the map.

"Yeah, and a couple of her classmates that I spoke to said that the last they saw of her was when they split up outside to head to their cars." Kurt filled in.

Clearing his throat, and tamping down on the unease creeping up, he went on. "I've checked with the hospitals in Brooklyn and Manhattan so far, but none of them have had someone matching Jane's description brought in."

"I hate to ask this, Kurt," Reade said cautiously, "but are you sure Jane didn't leave again? Did you do anything to…?"

"No!" Kurt cut him off and glared at his friend, gripping the end of the table. "She would've said something."

"We found her car close to LaGuardia."

Kurt sighed in frustration, crossing his arms. "Her passport is at home, along with all her things."

"How about the passports from her K&R days?"

"No, Reade!" Weller growled, his irritation clear. "She destroyed them a while ago. And she would have told me, or left a note."

"She could have used her driver's license as her ID to fly domestically." Patterson reminded him softly. "As much as I hate to play the devil's advocate, how do you know she didn't choose to try and track down some connection to Roman alone, and try to protect you by not telling you?"

"I just know. She wouldn't…not after we've just started trusting each other again," he replied sadly. "And you're monitoring her credit card activity, right?" He asked Patterson.

"Yes, I am. There's no activity on them."

Kurt ran his hand over his face in frustration, and spoke quietly, almost as if to himself. "Something's wrong. I know it."

* * *

Lying on the ground, her muscles still protesting after the latest round of the parrilla, Jane tried to figure out what day it was. She had lost track of the time amid the questioning and torture sessions. It must have been a couple of days at least. It was like the time at the CIA again, but this was worse. Whatever limits or restrictions Keaton had had, Campbell didn't. To him, this wasn't just about getting information; it was personal. Campbell had now stripped her down to her underwear, and kept her handcuffed and blindfolded the entire time. Apparently, he didn't want a repeat of the last time they had met.

Suddenly, she heard the door open and the next thing she knew, she was on her back with someone pressing their knee into her stomach.

"Now, Jane," she heard Campbell's twang from above her. "Are ya ready to tell me, whatcha know of the money transfers made by Jason Ross?"

"I don't know who that is," she rasped out amid the growing pressure. She tried to struggle, but the pressure only increased and she couldn't help groaning. The moment she did, someone grabbed her chin and shoved a hose into her mouth and down her throat.

"Fine, have it your way."

Jane felt the water from the hose start filling her stomach as she struggled.

Above her, she heard her tormentor's voice. "This is a neat little trick used mostly by the North Koreans, or that's what the defectors say." The water was filling her mouth, panic starting to take over as she thrashed against the people holding her, trying to get away. " _I'm going to drown or my stomach will burst,"_ a panicking voice in her head told her.

"The Norks fill their victim's stomach with water…..until it feels like it'll tear apart, just like you are feeling now, and then….."

Jane felt the hose being pulled from her mouth, a second before her world exploded in pain.

"They stamp on it." Campbell finished as he stomped down on her, causing Jane to retch violently until her stomach had emptied of the water.

The men holding her left, slamming the door shut, leaving Jane alone again.

Jane groaned, coughing as she tried to get rid of the water she had inhaled. She curled into a ball, trying to will the agony away, but failing. The pain in her stomach was so bad she was sure she had injured something permanently. She moaned quietly, coughing out the remnants of the water. It did nothing to help with the pain, and it was a long while until she felt like she could breathe normally again.

* * *

Kurt paced around the NYO. He wandered almost aimlessly from SIOC to Patterson's lab and back to his workstation again. He'd spent hours shifting through CCTV footage, hoping to find some clues about whoever had Jane. When his eyes felt like they couldn't take it anymore, he'd gone to the gym to work out and try to get rid of the anxious feeling engulfing him.

Reade and the others had told him to go home for a few hours to get some rest, but he couldn't. Being there would make him just increasingly more desperate, more conscious of Jane's absence. So, instead of going home, he ended up having catnaps in the break room, getting a couple of hours of sleep at most.

The uncertainty was driving him crazy. They had found some hairs in Jane's car that weren't hers and sent them for testing. He'd asked Patterson multiple times already about the DNA results, but every time her apologetic but patient reply was the same: even with rushing the tests, getting the results would take at least a day more, if not two.

He sat down at his desk, and buried his head in his hands. " _Where are you, Jane? Are you hurt?"_ He swallowed a lump in his throat. " _Are you alive?"_

 _What if she isn't even in the country anymore? What if someone has taken her, trafficked her out of the country? What if they plan on using her for forced labor, or worse? What if they intend to harvest her organs? Oh God, no._ The thoughts bombarding him made him feel increasingly more anxious and sick to his stomach. He knew Jane could hold her own, but if she was hurt and they were doing God knows what to her, how long could she fend them off?

" _Just hold on, Jane. We'll find you. We have to."_

Needing a distraction, he headed back to Patterson's lab, hoping to be able to do something useful.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N:Just to be on the safe side, this chapter has a trigger warning for brief threat of rape, so consider yourself warned.

* * *

The room was dark. Jane tried to curl up to try and conserve some heat, she was freezing. She tried to take a deep breath, but only ended up coughing painfully. She must have inhaled some of the water during one of the sessions. Her head was pounding, she had hit it on something when her captors had thrown her around as they moved her inside the room. The pounding was only enhanced by the music constantly coming from speakers somewhere in the room. There was no respite from it. The only time it stopped was when Campbell decided to have another shot at torturing her. Having worked with the CIA, he knew everything about their enhanced interrogation methods.

Jane couldn't see so she had to go by her other senses. The room had to be rather large, she could hear sound echo during the brief moments of silence. The sound of their boots sounded unnaturally loud as Campbell and his men moved about the room. The air was stale, it smelled musty, almost like the barn where she had killed Oscar. There was a leaking faucet somewhere in the room, she could hear the drops of water hitting metal, like the bottom of an industrial sink. _"What is this place? And where am I? Am I even in the US anymore? They could've kept me drugged for God knows how long during transport."_

Jane stamped down on the rising desperation and tried to focus her thoughts. " _I have to try and figure things out. Maybe at some point Campbell will get complacent, or one of his men will,"_ she tried to convince herself, although being kept handcuffed the entire time and having nothing to pick the lock with, she was starting to feel her resolve crumble. " _Okay, think. How many men does he have?"_ There was at least one called Jerry, another one who smelled of cigars, and a third who kept snapping at something like a pen. At times she had heard Campbell go somewhere, what she assumed was the door, and talk to someone. So there might be more.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the heard the door opening, and soon the music stopped again.

* * *

Kurt sighed in frustration and massaged his neck before dialing Patterson's number and waiting for the SUV's handsfree to connect his call.

"There's no sign of them here either, Patterson," he spoke almost angrily as soon as the call connected. "Give me the next address."

He heard her sigh on the other end of the line, but her voice was soft. "Kurt, come back to the NYO. You've been driving around for hours."

After calling all the hospitals in the area of the five boroughs to see if any of them had had a patient matching his wife's description, and going through endless hours of CCTV footage to find any clue as to who had Jane, he was almost at a dead end. Her phone had been found close to her car, only showing the calls Kurt had made to it on the night of her disappearance. And there was still no activity on her credit cards. He had even called Allie, begging her to go check their old house in Colorado, to see if she was there. But there had been no sign of her.

It had to be someone with a connection to them, he knew that. Jane wouldn't leave without telling him, not again. So, in his desperation he had started driving around and checking any connection he could think of. He'd gone to the old Briggs house, he'd searched some of the old Sandstorm locations Patterson had, but there were still many on the list.

"Just give me the next address, Patterson!" He spoke, now clearly angry.

"No, I will not. I will not have you driving yourself off the road because you fall asleep at the wheel." Patterson's tone was adamant but compassionate. "Look, come here and rest up a couple of hours. You're no use to Jane if you're dead on your feet when we find her," she finished gently.

Kurt's voice was strained as he answered. "I can't just sit around doing nothing."

Before Patterson had a chance to reply, he heard another familiar voice. "Kurt, it's Reade. Look, I know you're not big on the idea, but what if we bring Keaton into the loop? Ask if he's heard from Jane, just to cover our bases?"

As much as Kurt hated the idea of bringing Keaton in, he knew Reade had a point. Exhausted, he rubbed his eyes before relenting. "Alright. I'll call him and ask him to come to the NYO. I'm coming back there now."

* * *

Jane bit down on her lip to muffle her scream as the tip of the knife sliced the skin at her side as she was suspended by her arms. She knew her torturer had to be tracing one of her tattoos. The warm blood dripped down her side from the shallow cut. He knew exactly what he was doing. Not deep enough to cause major injuries but enough to hurt like hell.

Campbell sounded amused as he spoke from somewhere behind her. "You are a tough one, aren't ya? Keaton was unable to get the information he wanted, but I won't make the same mistake he did. See, I know ya now."

She heard his footsteps coming closer and her pulse quickened.

"And you'll tell me everythin' I wanna know. Everyone has a breaking point, Jane. Even you. It's just a matter of the right tools. Now, let's try this again, shall we? What do ya know of the remainin' Regiment cells in New York State?"

"Go to hell, Campbell," Jane replied measuredly. She heard him scoff, and then heard a sound, like someone popping the lid off a container. Soon, she was unable to muffle a scream as the fresh wounds felt like they were on fire.

Campbell was almost analytical as he spoke. "Table salt. Such a common, everyday item. But somethin' that can be very useful also when acquiring information."

Jane tried to get her breathing under control, breathing through her nose. "I don't know anything more about the Regiment," she attempted to tell him through the pain.

"You honestly expect me to believe that?" His tone was almost berating.

"For an ex-intel contractor, you really should work on your people skills more." Jane retorted back. "That is probably why you were let go by the CIA. You're inept."

Her torturer's voice took on an edge with the next words. "No…they let me go 'cause of you. Because of whatcha did. You bitch!"

The next moment, Jane howled in agony and all she saw was white hot pain behind her eyelids, as Campbell grabbed her arm and violently yanked her shoulder back. She could hear the sickening sound as her you shoulder dislocated, and came close to passing out but her body wasn't quite that merciful.

The malice in his voice was clear. "Hurts like hell, don't it?"

* * *

"The DNA belongs to someone called Jonathan Campbell." Patterson told the group assembled in her lab.

Jonathan Campbell?" Keaton asked Patterson, and sighed.

Kurt spun around to face him, eying him suspiciously. "You know this guy?"

"If it's the same Campbell, then yes. I worked with him, when he did work as a contractor for the CIA."

"What kind of contracting work?" Kurt's voice was getting colder as he spoke.

"Come on, Weller. This guy has been a contractor on classified operations, you know I cannot share the information."

Something in Kurt's mind snapped. _This guy has worked with the CIA, with Keaton…and now he has Jane._

He rushed Keaton, pinning him hard against the wall.

"HEY! Weller! Don't destroy my lab." Patterson protested, but Kurt did not seem to hear her.

"It's been almost a week! You better tell us everything you know about Campbell, right now!"

"I have to verify it with Langley first."

Kurt stared at Keaton, his arm slowly increasing the pressure against the other man's throat. "Quit with the bureaucratic excuses. He has my wife!" Kurt felt his anger only increasing at Keaton's calm look. "How the hell would you feel, if someone was holding your wife and doing God knows what to them?" he growled.

"Let him go, Kurt." Patterson asked, placing her hand on his shoulder. He ignored her.

"At least my wife is not a former terrorist," Keaton quipped, despite Weller's arm increasing the pressure against his throat.

Red-hot rage filled Kurt's mind and he punched Keaton in the gut, hard, about to take another swing at the CIA man when Reade forcefully yanked him back.

"WELLER! That's enough!"

He let go of Keaton who crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath.

Next, he found himself looking at Reade, his look a mix of concern and incredulity. "What the hell are you thinking? Go, get out of here. Go cool off."

Weller glared at the man collecting himself on the ground and pointed at him accusingly "This is on you, Keaton! You better clear that information with Langley. Or I will hold you personally responsible for what happens to Jane."

With that, he stormed out of the lab.

* * *

"Tell me what I wanna know!" Campbell shouted at Jane as she sat blindfolded in the chair again, her hands cuffed behind her back. Her shoulder felt like it was being torn out of its socket, which it technically had been. She raised her head wearily from her chest, and drew in a breath. She felt the painful rasp as her lungs protested.

"I can't tell you what I don't know," she replied tiredly.

Then, all she could do was yell as he pressed a cigarette into her thigh and held it there. "I got all the time in the world, _Jane Doe_ " he snarled into her ear, so close that Jane could feel his breath of her cheek.

He lifted the cigarette and whispered. "No one's coming to get ya. You belong to me as long as we need. Oh, and soon we'll bring your husband here too."

Jane couldn't help an involuntary shudder from escaping at the thought of Kurt in Campbell's hands. _No, God no._

"Oh, that got your attention did it, darlin'?" Campbell laughed. "Yeah, maybe having him here will encourage ya to talk."

Jane was unable to bite back a scream as Campbell grabbed her injured shoulder and squeezed it. "Then, you get to watch when I do all the same things to him that I did to you. Maybe even a bit more. He's got no intel value to us, and it is interestin' to test the limits of human endurance sometimes."

Lifting her head, she blindly sought Campbell to address him. "Leave Kurt out of this," she spoke, her voice betraying the fear she felt at the thought of her husband being tortured.

"It doesn't have to be like this." He sounded almost sympathetic. "Tell me what I wanna know and maybe we'll kill him quick."

"I can't tell you what I don't know," Jane pleaded with her captor, becoming desperate.

She froze as she felt his fingertips trail her neck.

"I have to hand it to ya, you are resilient. You withstood all that questionin' with Keaton, and still managed to escape. You got some spark in ya."

The hairs at the back of her neck stood up, as he whispered in her ear.

"I like that in a woman. I like it when they put up a fight."

Jane shivered as his finger traced the back of her bra.

"Tattoos or not, you do have a very nice body." Campbell traced the strap of her bra with his fingers, and circling in front of her, he rested his hand on her breast. "Or maybe…maybe I'll keep Kurt alive long enough so that he can witness me ravish his wife. He can't stop me, all he can do is watch. We'll see if ya have any fight left after I'm done with ya."

With all her military training, this was something that shook her to down to her soul. With Kurt there…" _Please God, no."_

* * *

Kurt was gripping the steering wheel as he drove, trying to push back the thoughts of all the worst-case scenarios involving Jane that his mind kept creating. Keaton rode shotgun with Reade and Zapata following in another SUV behind them. They were driving to upstate New York, planning to meet up with some agents from the Albany field office along the way, but there was still almost a two hour drive up north from there.

Thanks to a redacted CIA file on Campbell that Keaton had provided, they had been able to bring in one of Campbell's old associates for questioning. During the interrogation he had mentioned a cabin at Dewey Mountain that Campbell had bought from him a few years back. Using information from the DMV, Patterson had tracked Campbell using a northbound toll road a little over a week ago. They had immediately issued a BOLO to state and local law enforcement, but so far there were no reports. Kurt just hoped they were right and not just chasing a ghost. He knew the longer it took, the slimmer his chances of finding Jane alive.

Startled by the sound of his phone ringing, he answered the call showing up on the dash: "Yeah, Patterson?"

"We continued questioning Lawson this morning after you left, to see if he could give us anything more and he gave us a name that flagged a past case. You're not going to like it."

"Just tell me! What case?" Kurt replied, irritated.

"The Shipley tattoo case, with the Regiment. Apparently, Lawson and Campbell had a mutual friend we took down in that case."

Kurt felt a mix of frustration and fear. The militia being involved raised the risks to their operation significantly. The members most likely had training and a passionate hatred for law enforcement, Federal in particular. And the location they were going to might have boobytraps. He sighed. "So, you're saying that he might have had connections to the Regiment?"

"Yeah, he might. We took down the leadership, but a paramilitary organization like that might have cells still left."

Kurt glared at Keaton, wondering if there was more he wasn't telling. "Okay. Any new sightings on Campbell?"

"No. But based on this Regiment connection I have been doing some research on the location."

"What have you got?"

"I was thinking that a cabin, even a remote one would be too cramped to hold Jane and Campbell and his men. So, I drew up a list of non-residential buildings that have been for sale within a 20-mile radius of the cabin."

"That's a reach at best, Patterson…"

"I know, but hear me out. There were some industrial buildings, but they were too open. But then I discovered that the New York National Guard shut down their armory last year. It was vacant and for sale for a while, until it was bought by a small company called Roncal LLC four months ago. Going over the seized Regiment documents we discovered that its owner, a Steven Spencer, had made a donation to a charity that was actually a front for collecting funds for the Regiment."

"Alright, thanks. Keep digging, we need some confirmation that it is the place. We're still about half an hour from Albany, ideally we need the location when we brief their agents."

"I'll call you as soon as I have anything new." With that, the call disconnected.

Kurt threw a pointed look at Keaton. "Did you know about this Regiment connection? What are you not telling us?" He asked, an edge to his voice.

"No, this was news to me, too. Look, if he's associated with the Regiment, we would never have hired him."

"But you did, didn't you?" Kurt's voice was low and tight, his eyes on the road again. "How many times have you used him to do your dirty work at black sites?"

Keaton sighed in frustration. "Look Weller, the Agency has used him as a contractor, but I can't tell you more because those operations are classified."

"Then tell me about him! If anyone knows what he's capable of, it's you! And he has Jane."

"He's a former Army Human Intelligence specialist. Had a good service record, had worked for the same contractor for a number of years. He got the job done."

Kurt shuddered inwardly at that statement. He knew what getting the job done meant in Keaton's world.

"But you let him go, according to the file you gave us. Why?"

"He was working for some operation, I don't know the details, but something happened. He became volatile. I had people who had worked with him come tell me they didn't want to work with him anymore. That he was a risk. And he was recovering from an injury after….after Jane. So, we didn't hire him anymore."

Kurt swallowed hard and spoke quietly, voicing his inner thoughts. "So he blames Jane for losing the contract…"

* * *

Jane was shivering. Campbell had purposefully lowered the temperature in the room, and now, her skin still wet from the last torture session, she thought she could feel the heat leave her body. At first, she had hoped the cold would dull the pain, but it didn't. It only made her shiver, and when she attempted to ease her agony by shifting position on the hard, concrete floor, it just made it even worse, causing her to cry out, quietly, as the pain flared all over her body."

She couldn't see anything through the blindfold, so it was as if all sensation was multiplied. She could feel the handcuffs digging into her wrists, her injured body screaming with the pain. All she heard was the pounding music on a loop again, refusing to give her a moment's respite. And if she dozed off, she very soon woke up to a swift kick into her stomach. God, she needed to sleep.

How long had it been? Must be days, if not longer. It all melded into a continuous blur of pain and torture. They had taken Jane's sight with the blindfold, her hands were cuffed behind her back, and she hadn't slept in ages. How long could she take this? Not that it mattered. She didn't have the answers to Campbell's questions. And no one would find her, Keaton would make sure of it. Keaton had okayed taking her, Campbell had said. " _But why? Maybe for the same reason as Campbell, maybe he wants to finish the job."_

She just wanted for the pain to end. She couldn't block it out, not anymore. Not without sleep. She thought they had shut down the Regiment's operation when working with Kurt's old partner. But had they missed something? Based on Campbell's insistence, they must have. That, or he just wanted to make her suffer as much as possible.

Jane tried to think back to that case, to give him something if only to make the pain stop for a while. And most of all, to keep him away from Kurt. The thought of her torturer getting his hands on her husband had her feeling both angry and terrified. She knew she would not survive that, watching him subjected to all she had lived through so far. And then Campbell's threat of making Kurt watch as he raped her. How could Kurt ever look at her after that, assuming they would live. _Kurt_. God, she missed him. He must be going mad with worry. Hopefully he knew her disappearing was not by choice this time. " _But what if Keaton told him I had left again and is leading him on a wild goose chase across the world? No one will ever come for you…"_

Desperation was getting an iron grip on her heart, there was hardly a spark of hope left. She had never felt like this, not even during the three months with the CIA. She was on her own.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you all for your reviews! They feed my muse and it's nice to know others read these fics, too :) . Here's chapter 3. Time to get Jane to safety.

There's one more actual chapter and an epilogue after this one.

* * *

Kurt signaled for the team to advance in turns as they approached the armory. They had left the SUVs beyond the trees to minimize the risk of being detected too early. Verifying Patterson's information, they could see Campbell's car along with a few others at the back of the building, next to a loading dock. She told them the building had multiple entry points, but because they had a limited number of people on the assault team and the number of Campbell's men was still unclear, they had decided to make entry from a single door, close to the main assembly hall of the armory and send one agent to the back to keep an eye on the rear and side exits.

As they stacked up on the door, Kurt checked it and not finding any sign of wires, he tried the handle. The door didn't budge, something was anchoring it shut. Not wanting to risk anyone of the assault team by using a battering ram, he spoke to the man immediately behind him.

"Blow it."

The man inched past Kurt to place a small piece of plastic explosive and detonation cord on the door. After a few seconds, Kurt could feel the small splinters hit his cheek as the door blew, even though he was standing behind the corner. Raising his weapon, he entered the hallway, with Reade and Zapata trailing him and Keaton and more agents traveling along the opposite wall in a similar formation. The hallway was empty, a sign that made the hair at the back of Kurt's neck stand up. Something was wrong. As they rounded the corner, they were met with fire behind a barricade only fifteen feet away. Returning fire, Kurt and the team retreated behind the corner, luckily unscathed.

Kurt was just about to return fire and keep advancing, even down the narrow hallway, when suddenly, the firing died down.

"Hold your fire!" Kurt heard someone shout. "Keaton, ya there?"

Kurt glared at Keaton, warning him to watch his words. "I'm here, Campbell. I know you're rash at times, and trying to get into the Agency's good graces, but this isn't the way. Put down your weapons and let Jane go."

"What the hell are ya talking about, Keaton? You've said it yourself, she's a terrorist, a Sandstorm member. I'm doin' ya a favor."

"Campbell,–"

Kurt could feel the anger rise inside him and interrupted. "Where is Jane?" He shouted.

"I'm assumin' you're Kurt?" Came the derisive, goading, reply from behind the barricade. "Oh, I have to say, you're very careless for an FBI Agent. You and Jane were so easy to tail."

"Campbell, where is she?" He shouted again, feeling himself almost shaking with anger. He tried to catch a glimpse of the barricade and see how many people were behind it, but quickly pulled back as a bullet snapped into a wall close to him.

"Your wife? I was just tellin' her that maybe I shoulda had ya brought in too, just so ya can see me havin' my way with 'er. No wonder you fell for her, she does have a great body. But she's mine now. Come and get her if ya can. "

At Campbell's words Kurt only heard the blood rushing in his ears. That bastard had Jane, and God knows what he had done to her. Kill zone or not, he had to get to her, _now._

He raised his weapon and rounded the corner again, the shots landing close to him, but he didn't care. The only thing that he focused on was getting to Jane. He hadn't gotten more than a couple of steps when something yanked him back.

"Weller! No!" Reade shouted from behind him and pulled him back by his body armor.

"What the hell, Reade?" He glared at his friend, furious as he shook off the grip, back behind the wall.

"They'll kill you before you can advance five feet. Be reasonable." Reade tried to convince him.

He tried to look behind the corner, but was met with another withering barrage of fire. He sighed, forcibly suppressing the anger and fear he felt for Jane, forcing himself to come up with a plan.

Turning to his friends, he shouted over the gunfire. "Reade, Zapata. You stay here with Agent Baker's team and try to pin them down or take them out."

Looking to the opposite side of the hallway entrance, he glanced at Keaton. "Keaton, you come with me. Let's go around the building, try to find another entry point."

The CIA agent nodded. "Okay, cover me so that I can get back to that side."

The suppressive fire worked and Keaton crossed over to Kurt and the two men retraced their steps back outside, then headed to the other side of the armory.

Kurt gave a hand signal to the agent who was surveilling the side and she indicated the side was clear.

Reaching the side door, Kurt cursed. The door was rigged with an explosive charge. Disarming it took a couple of minutes, but even that was minutes too much when it came to finding Jane.

After disarming the explosive Kurt and Keaton entered the building again. This hallway was empty, it had a few doors leading to storages. They could hear the exchange of fire still continuing elsewhere in the building. Advancing slowly, they cleared each room one by one. Luckily enough, all the doors were open so they could be sure no one would sneak up on them.

Coming to an intersection of another service hallway, Kurt stopped. He glanced behind his back, signaling to Keaton that he had one man in sight. It looked like he was standing watch by the doorway. Counting silently to three, Kurt turned the corner and took the man down with a single, well-placed shot.

As Kurt stepped towards the dead man and removed his weapon, he could hear loud music inside the room. He tried the doorknob, but the door was locked. He knelt next to the body again, searching his pockets. He spoke a quiet " _got it"_ in his mind, as he found the key to the lock.

Kurt opened the door to the room, and what he saw made him freeze in his tracks. In the room, with her back to him and blindfolded, was his wife. Seeing Jane again, alive, made his breath hitch. It was clear she was injured, but she was alive. His mind was flooded with a variety of emotions and he didn't know which would gain the upper hand. He felt relief and elation to have finally found Jane, but at the same time it felt like he had to swallow the lump in his throat as he saw the blood on her and imagined what Campbell had done to her during these few days. The worry and concern were almost suffocating. And finally, he felt anger. Anger at Campbell for having taken Jane, at Keaton for his attitude, and at himself, for failing Jane.

He looked at Keaton, motioning at him to go and find the control panel for the deafening sound system blaring in the room where Jane was held. As Keaton disappeared around the corner again, he drew in a steadying breath and entered the room. Reade and the others would handle Campbell and his men. The only thing that mattered to Kurt right now, was Jane.

* * *

Jane noticed the noise had stopped. Her shoulder felt like it was on fire and her entire body ached, but she knew what the silence meant: only more pain. She tried to steel herself, but she was so tired. She yearned for sleep, and an end to the pain.

She couldn't see from under the blindfold, but she the heard footsteps.

Then she heard it, almost a choked whisper.

"Jane…"

She thought she must be hallucinating. It couldn't be Kurt. But then, as he carefully removed the blindfold, she saw him standing in front of her.

His touch was feather-light as he traced her cheek gingerly. Jane could see the pain in his eyes as he looked at her while he dug the handcuff key from his pocket and opened her handcuffs. She felt his hands tremble as he fumbled with the key and carefully released her arms. She couldn't help a cry of pain as the movement jostled her dislocated shoulder. With her arms free, she brought her injured arm to her chest and took a step back, trying to make sense of things in her exhausted state.

She looked at Kurt, fear filling her mind. _"No, this can't be…they got him, too."_ She shook her head, and retreated away from him, the desperation nearly overwhelming. "No, no. Not you, too."

Kurt's look was tender, his tone soft as he spoke. "Jane, it's over. You're safe."

His familiar voice was like balm to her wounds, but she was still afraid this wasn't real. She hadn't slept in ages and she knew that if you were tired enough, you could start seeing things. It had happened to her many times during her military training. Rocks moving, trees having entire conversations with her.

And now, if Campbell had managed to get Kurt, Jane knew what awaited him, awaited them. She couldn't go through with it, watch him suffer. She sidestepped the metal cot and backed further away, almost into a corner.

"No, please. Don't…", she whispered desperately at him, willing to stop her body from shivering as the movement only made her shoulder hurt more.

Still, Kurt slowly eased closer to her, holding out his hand for her to take. She heard the slight quiver in his voice as he approached. "It's just me. It's okay. Let me help."

" _It's Kurt. You can trust him,"_ one part of her mind assured her. _"I know. But I can't take it if he's hurt because of me. I can't,"_ the more desperate part shook her head anxiously, tears brimming her eyes and her voice small. "No. You have to get out of here."

Jane could see the pain and hurt in his look, a strangled breath escaping him at her utterance. "Oh, Jane…."

She couldn't help the involuntary flinch as Kurt lay a gentle hand on the arm cradling her injured one.

"It's okay," he kept reassuring her.

Kurt was now standing right in front of her. Jane's fear eased slightly as she looked into his eyes, seeing the love mixed with his concern. "You're hurt."

Her body tensed reflexively as Kurt ran his hand lightly over her shoulder and he let his eyes travel over her, cataloguing the various wounds and bruises among her tattoos. He hushed her gently, seeing her distress. He brought his hand to her cheek slowly, his look growing even more worried as he moved it to her forehead. "You're burning up."

"I'm cold," she admitted quietly.

Almost before the words had left her mouth, Kurt had already shrugged out of his body armor and jacket, and Jane soon found herself engulfed in the jacket's warmth as he gingerly draped it around her shoulders. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking in Kurt's scent and his soothing presence beside her. She could feel her body starting to tremble with the exertion and pain of the events, to give in.

She looked at Kurt wearily, and was about to speak when a noise near the door caught her attention.

She glanced towards the sound and a feeling of dread filled her. " _Keaton."_ She couldn't help a whimper escaping her mouth as memories of the black site and the past few days flooded her mind. She was able to call up her final reserves of adrenaline from somewhere, and drew in another painful breath, determined to face her old tormentor.

"You!" Jane's agitated tone caused Kurt to turn around and Keaton to freeze where he was. She walked past Kurt, so that she was standing in the middle of the large room; between the men who both had had an impact on her life as she knew it. One, the man she loved, her husband and partner in all senses of the word, and the other her torturer, the man she had been forced to work with, and who was also responsible for her pain now.

"Have you come here to finish the job?" Jane yelled at him angrily, the effort triggering a coughing fit. She leaned forward, feeling like she might cough her lungs out as the motion hacked against her ribs. She drew in another shuddering breath. "Didn't you torture me enough during those three months?! I WOULDN'T BE HERE IF IT WASN'T FOR YOU!", she screamed at Keaton, tears now running down her cheeks, her voice wavering with fear and anger. The little voice in the back of her head kept telling her " _He gave the okay to Campbell, and he wants to finish what he started."_

"Jane, come here. Please," she heard Kurt's soft voice from behind her.

Jane shook her head slightly, whispering a determined "No" under her breath. She could feel her body tremble as she took another step closer to Keaton, angry at herself that she couldn't jump him and beat him to a pulp like she wanted to.

He seemed frozen in place, looking past her, somewhat dumbfounded.

"Can you imagine, how hard it has been for me, seeing you, _working with you_ after all the things you did to me? Am I –" Again, a coughing fit interrupted her. "Am I just supposed to forgive and forget the pain and torture you put me through?!"

She heard the emotion in Kurt's voice as he spoke to her again. "Jane, please. You're hurt."

Ignoring her husband's pleas, she continued staring down her old tormentor, her body protesting more and more every second, every word.

"Do you have _any_ idea how hard it was to see you in my _home_ in Colorado!"

This time Keaton made eye contact with her and responded, his tone as smug as she remembered it. "I saved your life that night."

"Keaton!" Jane heard Kurt's edgy rebuke from somewhere behind her, now closer than before.

"I barely had a life to save once you were done with me, you son of a bitch!"

"I was–"

"Back away, Keaton!" Jane could hear the warning tone and anger in Kurt's voice as he interrupted the CIA man. "Leave, _now_!" He practically growled.

Keaton let out a frustrated breath and shrugged before turning on his heels and leaving Jane alone in the room with Kurt again.

* * *

Momentarily stunned, Jane stared at the doorway after Keaton had disappeared. " _Keaton, will he –"_. Her train of thought was interrupted by the feeling of Kurt's fingers brushing against hers lightly. She turned around slowly as he called out her name. He was there, he was real and he wasn't a captive. Her breath hitched with emotion and pain as she admitted: "I can't…."

He tugged at her fingers gently, inviting her to step closer. "Come here."

Jane managed a single step, before her tired body gave out.

Kurt managed to catch her against him before she collapsed onto the ground. She nearly passed out from the pain as her injured arm moved again.

Holding her to him, he carefully eased them to the ground. "I've got you. It's okay."

She whimpered softly, her voice pleading as he leaned in and went to unzip the jacket wrapped around her in order to look at her shoulder and other injuries. "It hurts..no, please Kurt. Don't... "

He released a pained breath, his eyes reflecting his internal struggle, wanting to spare her from any more pain. His voice was apologetic but loving. "I know, my love. I know. I'm sorry. I'll be as careful as I can."

Despite his gentle manner, Jane was unable to bite back a wail of pain as he touched her swollen shoulder.

"Sorry, sorry," Kurt whispered his apologies as he pulled his hand away and continued assessing her injuries

She heard the thickness in his voice as the visible marks of the past few days were revealed to him in all the horrifying detail as he saw the burns and slashes covering her body. "Oh, Jane…"

As he lay his hand on her cheek, she leaned into his touch, seeking the contact. Always good at reading her, he sensed her distress and carefully pulled her into his warm embrace. She felt so cold.

"Kurt, I–"

"Shh, I'm here," he soothed her. "Just lie still."

Kurt simply sat there, murmuring sweet nothings to her as he gently cradled her to his chest. "Let's get you to the hospital, hmm?"

Jane shook her head silently against him. Kurt brushed his fingers against her cheek, his touch urging her to look at him. As she did, she saw the tenderness and pain in his gaze. She heard the pleading, almost desperate, tone in his voice as he tried to reason with her. "Jane.. you're hurt."

The events of the days all seemed to hit her at once: the physical and the emotional torture, the pain, the desperation. Despite the fiery agony, what she needed right at that moment, more than anything else, was him. She shook her head again, closing her fingers around the fabric of his shirt, not letting go.

"Please." She heard the desperate quiver in her own voice as she fought to control her breathing amid the coughing spells that triggered even more pain, and rein in the fear still lurking on the edges of her mind. " _You have to keep it together. You can't give Keaton the satisfaction."_

"Okay." he whispered, brushing his lips against her hair. "I've got you."

Her head pillowed against him, Jane closed her eyes as the warmth of his body slowly seeped into hers. Still, she couldn't shake the fear, knowing Keaton and Campbell were somewhere outside the room. Her voice trembled as she spoke, not even able to voice it coherently through the pain. "Keaton…he let Campbell do this. What happened."

Kurt tensed momentarily, before he tightened his arms around her, and stroked her hair. "I won't let him hurt you again. You're safe."

As Kurt held her, she slowly released the death grip on his shirt. The final traces of the adrenaline had worn off, leaving Jane exhausted both physically and mentally. Everything seemed blurry but the agony was still there. She nearly blacked out again and another moan slipped out as she made the mistake of moving.

She heard Kurt wince in sympathy, and felt his fingers lightly caressing her cheek again. "Hey, open your eyes for me."

He smiled at her gently, his voice soft and reassuring. "Let me take you to the medics, please? We have to get you to a hospital."

Jane nodded almost imperceptively and closed her eyes again. Now in the safety of her husband's arms, she just wanted for the pain to stop. He got up carefully, holding her close to him. The next thing she was conscious of was Kurt gingerly laying her down somewhere. The fear reared its ugly head again and her eyes darted around anxiously, looking for any sign of Campbell or Keaton. Her pulse spiked, seeing only unfamiliar people, besides Kurt, who was right next to her. He leaned in close, his look a mixture of love and worry. His voice was low, so that only she could hear him.

"It's okay." He trailed his fingers over the bird tattoo on her neck as his thumb brushed her cheek to soothe her. "You're safe here. The EMTs will take you to the hospital. I'll follow you there." She felt his breath warm her cheek right before he kissed her softly. "I love you, Jane."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Here you go, chapter 4. This chapter has more Jeller in it, albeit somewhat angsty.

* * *

Unable to make himself leave her just yet, Kurt stood to the side of the gurney, giving the medics room to work as they talked to Jane and prepared to transport her to the hospital. He stayed within Jane's line of sight, hoping his presence would reassure her. He saw the fearful look in her eyes and the way she tensed when the medics leaned close to her, as calm and careful as they were. It killed him to hear her cry out in pain as one of the medics tried to stabilize her shoulder the best they could so that the trip to the hospital would be as tolerable as possible.

After they loaded Jane into the ambulance and left, Kurt made his way back to the room where he had found Jane to pick up his body armor. Entering the room again, a chill ran down his spine. Previously, his focus had been on Jane, but now with her gone, he couldn't help but curse his observation skills, picking up small details that painted a grim picture in his mind about what had happened to Jane during the days she was here. He saw the metallic bedframe that she had sidestepped as he had released her, and a car battery with wires next to it; he saw the various knives on the side table and the almost overflowing ash tray next to it. Countless hours of torment and agony. " _I'm sorry, Jane."_ He released a shuddering breath and picked up his body armor, heading to the SUV's now in the front yard.

Walking, all he could think of was the pained, terrified look in his wife's eyes and the way she had clung to him. Her hoarse voice as she yelled at Keaton and the quiver in it as she pleaded to be held. The anger made its way back to the forefront of Kurt's mind. He wanted to beat Campbell to a pulp for what he had put Jane through.

Kurt saw Reade standing by one of the cars, talking to a couple of the Albany agents. He looked around, his eyes scanning for Campbell but not seeing him. He only saw a couple of other suspects being placed in the SUV's.

"Reade."

"Weller…" Reade turned and looked at him, a note of worry in his voice. "Did you find Jane? How is she?"

Kurt swallowed down on the bile threatening to rise in his throat and drew in a sharp breath. He shook his head slightly. "It's..it's not good. The EMT's just left with her for the hospital." He had to stomp down on the images that had been burned into his memory now. "I'll follow as soon as we get the scene processed…Where's Campbell?"

He saw the compassion in Reade's look, but his friend looked somehow uncomfortable as he spoke. "Kurt, look. We can handle the scene. Maybe you should head to the hospital, go be with Jane?"

Kurt was in no mood for beating around the bush. "Where's Campbell?" He asked again, his tone brusque.

"He's dead. He was shot during the takedown and the bullet nicked an artery. The medics tried to save him but he bled out."

Upon hearing the news Kurt felt conflicted. He was glad that Campbell would never, ever get the chance of hurting Jane again, but he was also furious that the man had been able to escape without punishment for what he had done to her. He felt his anger deflating slightly, but then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tasha and Keaton round the corner, talking animatedly as they stopped by one of the SUV's.

Seeing Keaton, Jane's words came to him again. He reached the SUV in a few strides.

"Weller –," Keaton only managed before Kurt's fist connected with his face.

"HEY!" Tasha shouted, stepping between the two men and pushing Weller back away from Keaton. "Weller, what the hell?" She asked him, casting a quick glance at her boss who was now holding his bleeding nose.

Kurt lunged at him again, only to be stopped by Reade and a couple of the other FBI Agents. The next few moments were pandemonium as the agents struggled to keep him from attacking Keaton again.

"YOU KNEW!" Kurt roared from behind the agents as he stopped struggling. "YOU KNEW CAMPBELL HAD JANE!"

"What?" Kurt heard Reade's surprised voice from behind him, and saw the shock in Tasha's eyes.

"What? No!" Keaton denied, clearly astounded by the accusation.

"Jane said you let Campbell do this! He told her." Kurt growled.

"Weller. Kurt. I had no idea about this." Keaton told him, his tone calm.

"Was it payback, for her having escaped? Did you want to finish the job like she said? How long were you planning to hide this? Were you going to let Campbell kill her, torture her to death over information she didn't have?!" Kurt went on, pain replacing the anger in his voice

"Keaton, is this true?" Reade asked.

"No!" Keaton made eye contact with Weller and spoke calmly. "Kurt, I swear on my daughter's life, I had no idea about this."

Reade nodded at the agents to step away from Kurt, seeing his slumped posture.

"Jane wouldn't lie to me," Kurt said anxiously.

"Campbell was an intel guy. A manipulator and an unstable man at that. He told her that to break her. He knew we had a history."

Kurt pulled his hand across his face, feeling sick to his stomach. "Oh God…"

Keaton took a few steps closer, their eyes meeting.

"Sorry about your nose."

Keaton waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Don't worry about it. It doesn't seem to be broken."

"Good."

"We can handle things here. Go be with you wife, Weller," he told Kurt, his tone sympathetic.

* * *

Kurt entered Jane's hospital room quietly and stopped at the door, swallowing the lump in his throat as his eyes found her. As he looked at her, he couldn't help noticing how pale she was lying there, her dark hair contrasting with the pale skin and the white sheets. Jane was the strongest person he knew, but at that moment she seemed almost fragile. She was asleep, an IV in her hand leading to a couple of bags hanging by her bed. The burns in her arms and around her body were dressed, the knife wounds stitched, and her shoulder relocated. He had spoken to the medical staff and they had told him that hopefully her shoulder would heal with physical therapy and surgery wouldn't be needed, but time would tell.

Kurt stepped by Jane's bed and pressed his lips softly to her forehead, but she didn't stir. The combination of painkillers and exhaustion had left her dead to the world. He could feel the heat radiating off her, and despite the medication her fever was still high. The doctor had told him she had pneumonia, which was their most pressing concern, especially since she was dehydrated as well. They had her on antibiotics, but it would take a couple of days to see if the drugs worked.

" _I'm sorry, Jane. This would never have happened if I had been more alert. I've grown too complacent."_

Kurt caressed Jane's cheek tenderly before sitting in a chair by the bed and taking her hand in his, determined to watch over her as she slept.

He had sat there for a couple of hours, alternately going over the events of the past days in his head and gazing at Jane as she slept, when he felt her hand move ever so slightly in his. He squeezed her fingers gently.

"Jane," he spoke her name quietly, a small smile appearing on his lips as she slowly opened her eyes. He saw the relief in her eyes as she recognized him, sitting by her bed.

"Kurt," her voice was barely a whisper.

"I'm here. It's okay," he soothed and caressed the back of her hand gently, mindful of the IV.

She tried to sit up, only to sink back down with a grimace as her muscles and wounds protested.

"Hey. Be careful," Kurt admonished her softly, afraid that she might reinjure herself.

"Water".

Kurt took the glass the nurses had left on the table and cradled her head, as he brought the glass to her lips. "Slowly".

Jane took a couple of small sips and sighed as Kurt eased her back down onto the pillow.

She looked at him through half-lidded eyes, fever shining in them. She was clearly fighting the exhaustion, an anxious look in her eyes.

He stroked her cheek and she leaned into his touch. "Everything's okay. You need to rest." Calmed by his gentle ministrations, Jane closed her eyes but reached for his hand. Kurt took her hand and leaned in close, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. "I'll stay right here. It's okay," he murmured against her. He resumed his seat beside her, his thumb drawing slow circles on the honeycomb pattern of her hand.

He felt Jane squeeze his hand, almost as if to make sure he wasn't leaving her side. She said something, so quietly he had trouble telling the words, but he thought he heard her whisper a soft "I love you" to him.

Kurt smiled, a warm sensation spreading in his chest at the realization that she was safe, and with him again. He reached out with his free hand, tenderly caressing Jane's warm forehead, hoping to reassure her with his touch. "Rest now," he whispered lovingly to her.

Soon Jane's grip relaxed as sleep claimed her again.

* * *

Jane felt groggy. She was so tired, exhausted even. She smelled the antiseptic odor, one that she always associated with hospitals. She felt the soft pillow under her head, and the blanket covering her legs and chest. She opened her eyes slowly, blinking a few times to get her bearings.

It must have been late evening or night, since all she saw outside the window was darkness, except for the blinking lights of the helipad on the roof of the building opposite. The only light in the room was the yellow glow of the table lamp by the bed. Glancing down from her semi-sitting position, she smiled weakly. Kurt was sitting in a chair by her bed, holding her hand securely in his as he slept, his head resting on her mattress. She reached out with her other hand, stroking his hair lovingly. He stirred at her touch.

He raised his head off the mattress and brought her hand to his lips, kissing her fingers. The look he gave her was full of love. "Hey."

"Hi." Jane gave a small smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She squeezed his fingers, feeling like she needed to reassure herself of his presence, even though he was sitting right by her bed; she couldn't let go of the feeling dread. She tensed as one of Campbell's taunts echoed in her mind again, fully expecting him to walk in the room. _"We'll see if ya have any fight left after I'm done with ya."_

Kurt must have interpreted her tension for pain, as his smile faded. "Are you in pain? Do you want me to get the nurse?" He asked, almost about to get up from his seat, concern clear on his face.

Jane shook her head slightly. "No. Stay." She bit her lip and drew a deep breath, feeling a sharp stab in her chest at the motion, despite what she had just told him.

"You sure?"

"Yeah." Sitting up better, she glanced at the IV in her hand. As tired as she was, she just wanted to get out of here, back to a familiar place where thoughts of Campbell didn't haunt her. "When can I go home?" She asked Kurt quietly.

He let out an affectionate chuckle, before growing serious again. "You have pneumonia. The doctors need to make sure the antibiotics work, but if all goes well, we can go home in a few days."

" _Home."_ Jane had been afraid she would never see home again. "How did you find me?"

Kurt went on to explain how they had gotten the DNA and how, with Keaton's help, the whole thing had unraveled.

Jane felt her anxiety ratchet up again at the mention of Keaton. Her heart was thumping against her ribcage. "Why did Keaton help you? He was working with Campbell." Her voice was rising, the fear creeping in again. He –"

"Jane, hey. It's okay." Kurt's voice was firm but gentle as he spoke and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Keaton didn't know. He swore he didn't, and I believe him." Kurt went on. "Campbell wanted to make you believe Keaton knew and helped him."

Jane drew in an almost ragged breath, feeling like she couldn't breathe. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to convince herself things were fine, but failing. She tugged at Kurt's hand gently, inviting him to sit on the bed. He did, his brow furrowing in worry as he looked at her. She glanced down at their joined hands, avoiding his eyes as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

Kurt brushed a tendril of hair off her face and tilted his head to get a better look at her. "Jane," he spoke softly, his tone mirroring the troubled look he wore, "talk to me."

The doctors had eased her physical hurt, but it had done nothing to treat the emotional agony. Her mind still remembered the desperation she had felt at the thought of no one being able to find her, the toll of the sleeplessness, the fear consuming her at Campbell's threats. The only thing - the only person - that could take that pain away, was Kurt.

She knew he could see that fear in her eyes as she looked at him, and she whispered, her voice small, "Will you hold me?"

She heard the thickness in his voice and saw the moisture glistening in his eyes. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I need you," she pleaded.

At her words, he caved.

"Come here," he whispered tenderly as he pulled her into him.

Careful of the stitches of the knife wounds in her sides, Kurt enveloped her in his arms. Keeping a tenuous grip on her emotions, she curled up against his chest, needing for him to hold her. Her fingers grasped his shirt in desperation. "I keep hearing Campbell in my head, seeing him, remembering what he did," Jane whimpered.

Kurt pressed his lips to her temple, shushing her softly. "Shh. He's dead, Jane. He can't hurt you anymore."

As his words registered in her exhausted mind, something broke inside her. She could no longer keep the weight of the events from crushing her. Her lower lip trembled and no matter how she much fought it, a small cry escaped her mouth. Back in the safety of Kurt's arms, she could let go of the fear and pain. " _Campbell's dead."_ Warm tears ran down her face and her breath hitched as the emotions engulfed her.

Kurt tightened his hold on her and cradled her to his chest, rocking her gently in his embrace as she wept. Deep, painful sobs shook her entire body as the terror and fear of the events came crashing down. Kurt kissed her hair, his voice cracking as he tried to soothe her agony. "It's okay. You're safe….shhh, my love. It's okay."

Eventually her tears stopped, but Jane did not move. Kurt wiped the last tears from her cheek gingerly, still holding her close. Feeling truly safe for the first time in days, Jane closed her eyes and let the exhaustion win, falling asleep in his protective embrace.


	5. Epilogue

A/N: And so we've reached the end of this fic. Please, do leave a review and let me know if you liked it. I have a couple of fic ideas in my head, but it might be a while until I post anything longer.

* * *

Kurt smiled as he walked down the hospital corridor that led to Jane's room. He felt almost giddy. She'd spent the last four days here, recovering from her ordeal, but today was finally the day he could take her home. He was anxious to see her since he hadn't seen her the previous day. He had to drive to New York to give his statements and handle some paperwork, but it also gave him a chance to stock up the fridge and make sure everything was in order before he brought Jane home. He'd been reluctant to leave her, but Patterson had driven up with some clothes for Jane, and both women had assured him Jane would be fine for a day without him.

His smile only brightened as he entered her hospital room and saw her sitting on the bed, not wearing a hospital gown but her own clothes, along with a zip-up hoodie of his. The events of the past week and a half were still visible on her face and body. She still had dark circles lining her eyes because of the sleep deprivation and her arm was in a sling that helped support the brace she wore to stabilize her shoulder. All the while, she still looked beautiful to him.

Seeing him enter, Jane slid off the bed and gave him a loving smile. Kurt walked to her and slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her in for a gentle kiss.

"You ready to go home?" He murmured, nuzzling her cheek as he pulled back.

"Yeah. I could really use some real food," she gave him a wry smile as she looked at him. "No offense, but the vegan food in this hospital needs a lot of work to be any good."

Kurt laughed at her comment. "Hospital food always sucks." He cupped her cheek gently, his other hand still on her waist, holding her close. "Anyway, there's a nice small restaurant in Albany that also has a good vegan menu, I'm told. We can stop there for dinner."

Jane's face brightened at the suggestion and she leaned in for another short kiss. "Thank you. I'd like that."

Kurt loved seeing her smile, particularly after all that she endured. Her smile gave him hope that she was slowly healing. "We can leave as soon as they bring your discharge papers and instructions for follow-up meetings."

* * *

Kurt turned off the engine of the SUV and sighed. _"Home sweet home"._ Glancing at the clock on the dash, he saw it was just after nine in the evening. Turning his head, he noticed that Jane was sound asleep on the passenger seat. She had stayed awake for the beginning of the 7-hour drive, but after the dinner he had promised, her exhaustion had won out and she had slept the rest of the way home.

He smiled fondly, looking at her sleeping form. She looked so calm, so relaxed. " _I can't believe I almost lost you,"_ he thought didn't want to think of the possibilities of what might have happened if it had taken any longer to find her.

Pushing back the thoughts, Kurt opened his seatbelt and reached over to caress Jane's cheek tenderly.

"Jane, honey." He spoke quietly, and soon she stirred at his touch and sleepily opened her eyes, blinking a few times. "Hey, we're home. "

Jane nodded and yawned, stretching out the kinks in her back, but grimaced as the muscles of her injured shoulder strained.

Kurt got out of the car and grabbed the backpack with Jane's things from the backseat, before rounding the car and opening the passenger door. As Jane stepped out, Kurt took her hand and tugged at it gently. "Come on, let's get you home," he smiled. Jane didn't say anything, only leaned into him and rested her head against his shoulder as they headed for the door of their building.

Once inside their apartment, Jane headed into the bathroom to take a quick shower. Hearing her frustrated groan from the bathroom, he glanced in and saw her trying to undress but with her shoulder and stitches, it turned out to be slightly more difficult.

"Let me help." He whispered against Jane's skin as he wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her good shoulder.

Jane only nodded and leaned into him. He helped her get out of her clothes and into the shower and he went to make sure the door and windows were locked. He was sitting on the bed when she emerged from the bathroom, and Kurt could see how tired she looked.

"Do you want something to eat?" He asked softly, gazing at her.

"No thanks. I just want to crawl into bed and sleep," came her tired reply.

Kurt got up and pulled her into gentle kiss. "Okay. I'm just going to wash my teeth and then join you."

A couple of minutes later, Kurt joined Jane in bed. As he carefully wrapped his arms around her, she snuggled into him and sighed contentedly, closing her eyes.

As he lay there quietly, holding her close, Kurt's thoughts drifted to what a close call it had been, yet again and how lucky he was to still have her by his side. Careful of the injuries, he trailed his fingers soothingly up and down her skin; he knew it helped Jane fall asleep, and he also needed to reassure himself that she was there.

"Goodnight, my love," he whispered tenderly to her.

Hearing no reply, he glanced down and smiled softly. Jane was already asleep, her face relaxed. Kurt pressed a kiss into her hair and switched off the bedside light, joining Jane in sleep barely a minute later.


End file.
